33. Chapter 33

"Adrien, your father wishes to speak to you."

Adrien sighed as he paused, halfway to his room, then turned to face his father's assistant. "Can it wait at all? The last photoshoot ran over and I have to get ready for Alya's dinner event over at the Grand Paris. I'm already running late as it is."

Nathalie gave him a long, unimpressed look, and Adrien sighed and reversed course, heading for his father's study. Nathalie ushered him in, and Mr. Agreste glanced up as soon as Adrien came in. He didn't look impressed, and Adrien wondered if somehow the pictures from his early-morning shoot had already gotten passed along to him and they somehow weren't up to standard or something. That would be fast and scarily efficient... but to be fair, most of his father's employees fit that description pretty well.

"Father? Nathalie said you wanted to see me."

Mr. Agreste nodded. Instead of simply explaining anything- because what fun would that be, Adrien thought sourly- he reached for something on his desk and passed it to Adrien. It only took a couple of seconds for Adrien to realize that it was a magazine, that it was in English, and that there was a picture of him and Marinette splashed across the cover, clearly just outside the spa in Bath. They looked close, with Adrien's arm around Marinette and her gazing up at him. Their hair was clearly damp, and it was obvious that they had just spent a large chunk of the day together in the spa.

Oh, great. They had forgotten that while there were no cameras allowed inside of the spa, there would definitely be cameras outside, once they left. Adrien took the magazine and flipped to the article, skimming through it. Thankfully there were no photos of them being closer together than the one on the cover and there were no pictures from inside the spa itself, and it looked like most of the people who had given them sideways looks in the spa hadn't said anything about the two of them. However, clearly not everyone had been so kind to ignore them.

And it was pretty obvious that some staff member had talked, because the magazine noted that the two of them had gotten a couple's massage package. And of course the magazine then had to make a huge deal about that fact.

"Getting a massage together isn't something you do with a friend," Mr. Agreste said testily, frowning at Adrien. Saying that he looked supremely irritated would be an understatement. "Neither is going to a spa together, at least not when it's a man and a woman we're talking about."

"It was Marinette's birthday present!" Adrien protested. He couldn't help but be supremely irritated about the article. It wasn't his fault that some people apparently didn't understand the concept of privacy. Honestly, it was super invasive, especially considering that a staff member had blabbed. He was definitely going to complain to the spa, because that was flat-out not okay, and whoever was responsible deserved to get fired. "Both of us had worked really hard this semester, and we were both really, really stiff from being hunched over a computer or a sewing machine, in Marinette's case. So I thought it would be fun to go to the spa."

"And get a couple's massage?"

Adrien shrugged. "It was part of the package that Marinette picked. It was less expensive to get that particular package and have a couple's massage than it would be to get the exact same stuff only with separate massages."

Mr. Agreste didn't look particularly mollified. "Expense is hardly an issue for us, and you know the papers won't accept that."

"Except I was paying for it, not you, and at my age, it's important not to go crazy with spending money," Adrien argued, frustration welling up. If he had spent money on two separate spa packages, he probably would have been scolded for wasting money. There really was no winning with his father. "If people want to ignore that, that's their problem."

"Adrien, you know that image is important," Mr. Agreste told him severely. "And once again, I'll have to ask you to take care of the rumors around this, and to be more careful in the future."

Adrien swallowed the sigh, knowing that it was pointless to keep arguing, especially if he wanted to be remotely close to getting to the awards dinner on time. "Of course, Father."

"That's all. You're excused."

Adrien nodded and left, magazine still clutched in his hand. He would have to mention it to Marinette so that she wouldn't be taken off guard. Hopefully she hadn't gotten caught by any nosy tabloid reporters before she left London.

Just to be sure, Adrien checked his phone again. Marinette hadn't mentioned anything about being bothered in any of her texts as she got onto the train and headed to Paris, so maybe they hadn't been expecting her to leave the city mid-day, or maybe they thought she had headed back to Paris with Adrien already.

"I could have told you that that would be too obvious," Plagg sniggered as soon as Adrien had gotten into his room. "And why don't you just tell your father the truth? Maybe he would be a little mad at first, but who cares what he thinks? He's stupid."

"He's made it very clear that he still doesn't want me dating while I'm in London," Adrien pointed out, sending the text he had written to Marinette before heading to the bathroom so he could shower and wash out all of the hair product from the photoshoot. "Even when it's Marinette that's always coming up as the potential girlfriend, he has a problem with it. I don't know why. I always thought that the dating ban was because he didn't want me falling in love there and then deciding to stay, but Marinette is from Paris."

"Does your father maybe think that Marinette has permanently moved to London?" Plagg asked. Adrien shrugged.

"I don't know. Maybe. I don't know why he would think that, though. Or why he wouldn't ask me about it instead of nagging me about spending time with her all the time."

Adrien rushed through his clean-up, sending frequent glances at the clock as he washed up and blow-dried his hair. He had already been running late after the final photoshoot of the day, and stopping to get scolded by his father yet again had just added to his lateness. He had to comb and re-style his hair (with much less product than the photoshoot had used) in a rush, then dig through his closet for a suitable outfit. Alya had said that it would be a semi-formal event, so he had to find a suit, and preferably one that wasn't too high-fashion and clearly ridiculously expensive. Once he had pulled it on and brushed off the specks of dust and stray hairs, Adrien shot out of the room like a cannon. His driver was already waiting in front of the house, and it didn't take too long to get over to the Grand Paris, where the dinner was being held.

"Dude, I was starting to think that you wouldn't be able to make it," Nino said with a laugh as Adrien slid into the seat next to him at one of the tables. "You missed most of the social hour. Did a photoshoot run over or something?"

"That, and my father wanted to talk to me," Adrien told him, scowling for a moment before remembering that there were loads of people with cameras milling around. The scowl smoothed out into a professionally blank expression. "Apparently it couldn't wait until tomorrow, or until I got home from this."

Nino made a face. "Oh, naturally."

"So what did I miss?"

"So far? Not much." Nino glanced around, and Adrien did the same. There were still a lot of people milling around talking instead of being seated. He could spot Alya and Marinette- and wasn't Marinette gorgeous in that dress?- standing partway across the room talking to an older couple. "A lot of people talking, of course, and some music, and that's really it. It's not even decent music, it's some elevator music nonsense. And whatever they're playing it on has terrible sound quality."

Adrien laughed at that. "You would notice something like that."

"Honestly? Anyone with ears should have been able to notice." Nino made a face at the reminder of how awful the music had apparently been. "But since a lot of the organizers are really getting on up there, I maybe shouldn't be so surprised that they couldn't hear how bad it was."

Adrien hastily muffled his snort before anyone could hear him.

It didn't take long before people started drifting towards their assigned seats. Alya grinned when she spotted Adrien and she didn't waste any time in rounding the table to crush him in a hug. Marinette giggled at him as he theatrically gasped for breath until Alya released him.

"It's been forever! And I thought you said that there might be times in between shoots where you could come see us!"

"Yeah, and then I stayed in London for longer than I thought I would, and all of my fittings and everything got crammed together," Adrien pointed. It had been stressful, but staying for the spa visit had been so worth it. "And any breaks I do get are at weird times, when you're meant to be working. I've been spending pretty much all of that down time trying to get some studying done for the rest of the semester."

Alya let out a huff. "You work too hard. Take a break every once and a while, why don't you?"

Adrien just smiled and shrugged. He had been taking a number of breaks- he had gone out as Chat Noir several evenings, when it was late enough that there weren't enough people out to immediately spot him. No one had seen him yet, and he was planning on keeping it that way probably until Saturday. But he couldn't exactly tell Alya that.

Once everyone was seated, waiters and waitresses swarmed out of the kitchens with trays of food. Several worked to set up a soup and salad line, while others put platters of food and baskets of bread out on tables.

"My mom is working in the kitchens tonight," Alya told them as a waiter placed a large platter of cooked chicken on their table. "She said that she would try to stick her head out when awards are announced, but between this event and the regular hotel guests they're pretty busy down there."

"Oh, I can only imagine." From what Adrien knew, this was a pretty busy time of year at the hotel. People came into Paris to visit their families for Easter and quite a few stayed at the high-end hotel. Others stayed elsewhere but came to the Grand Paris for dinner. The kitchen would be buzzing with activity, and as head cook Alya's mom would be hard-pressed to spare the time to leave.

Another few platters arrived, effectively disrupting their conversation as everyone started to dig in. As he ate, Adrien glanced across the table at the two other couples that sat across from them. He couldn't tell if it was another contest entry finalist and their family or friends or if there were other guests invited as well. He wasn't completely clear on how many finalists there were or if other people from the newspaper had been invited to attend the dinner too. There were so many people around the room, and even if he subtracted three to four guests per finalist...

Well, that was a lot of people still, and surely the field of candidates had been narrowed down more than that? How many people had entered, anyway?

"So how many finalists are there?" Adrien asked Nino over the sound of silverware against plates and quiet conversation around the room. "There's so many people here!"

Nino frowned as he thought about it. "Ten finalists, I think? Or maybe it's even down to eight or five, I don't know. Alya told me, but she also told me how many people there were at all of the other stages, too, so maybe I'm getting them confused. But then a lot of the permanent staff from the local branch of the newspaper gets invited and some bring a guest. All past winners are invited, too, and then they might have a guest, too, and of course there's the judging panel." He shrugged. "It's not all finalists, I can tell you that much."

"Ah." That made more sense. If it was only ten finalists (or even only five finalists), then it made sense that Alya might be more optimistic about her chances. If Alya weren't already deep in conversation with one of the women across the table, he would have asked her directly.

"So I've forgotten to ask before, but did you and Marinette finish up whatever it was that was keeping you so busy that Alya and I couldn't visit?" Nino asked. On Alya's other side, Marinette paused and turned to look at the two boys, frowning slightly as she did. Adrien frowned himself, trying to remember when on earth Nino had contacted them about a possible visit. He didn't remember anything like that.

"Wait, when did you ask about coming over?"

"A few weeks back," Nino told her, and finally it clicked in Adrien's mind. Aha. He had wondered what Nino was talking about. It had been long enough and Adrien had given it so little thought at the time that he had completely forgotten it. "I texted Adrien like normal, because he responds faster than you do normally-"

"I'm usually at work!"

"-but instead of the normal 'yeah come on over when are you going to arrive?' we got a 'It's not a good weekend, we're going to be crazy busy probably until the break'. And then there was no further explanation after that at all. But seriously, Adrien, you didn't even ask Marinette? Rude."

"I knew what her answer was going to be!" Adrien protested. "When you texted- Marinette, that was the week where both of us were so busy. I think I got the message on the day when I went to the print shop to get all of those transparencies for the screen printing stuff run off. I just responded and then forgot about it, because I had a million other things to think about."

"Wait, what was going on?" Alya demanded, pulling out of her other conversation and frowning at Marinette. "Was this when you had a couple too many commissions to do?"

Adrien snorted. "Try eleven too many commissions," he corrected, trying to not laugh when Alya and Nino gaped and then turned their stares on Marinette. "She had twelve total to work on. If we had had any guests over, we wouldn't have been able to do as much work that weekend as we did."

"We could have still come over and helped with your work somehow!" Alya protested. "If we had known that you were so buried..."

Adrien snorted before Marinette could respond. "I'm not sure how much there would have been for you to do. I think I took care of everything that a non-sewer could do, and I still had time left over."

Marinette nodded in agreement. The most Alya and Nino could have done would be speeding up the ironing, if Marinette had done the screen-printed shirts on Saturday instead of Sunday (and provided, of course, that they could have rounded up two more irons and ironing boards), but Adrien had done a fantastic job doing that on his own, and maybe speed up the studding work. Then there would have been the problem of sleeping arrangements when Marinette's apartment was completely unusable. She wouldn't be able to stay in her own room (even now, hints of the screen-printing chemicals and ink lingered in the air, even though the place had been airing out whenever it wasn't raining), and there would be no way that she would want to sleep on Adrien's couch, especially with Nino and Alya sleeping nearby on the inflatable mattress.

Alya sighed, slumping in her chair. "Okay, fine, I understand why you said that you were busy. How did that happen, that you got so many commissions?"

Adrien let himself zone out a little bit while Marinette told Alya and Nino all about all of her commissions so he that could glance around the room. There were a few tables where people clearly all knew each other well, while others where there wasn't quite as much conversation between the different groups. Some people were quite tense and only picking at their meals- other finalists, Adrien guessed. Alya had a bit of tension in her shoulders, too, but it wasn't quite as obvious. He was willing to bet that she believed in her topic and her research strongly enough that she wasn't overly concerned.

That could be a good thing if she won, or it could backfire very, very badly if she didn't win or even place in the top three. Adrien wanted to believe in her, of course, but he had had enough fencing tournaments or basketball games when he was younger when he went in a little too confident in his skills and then was crushed when he didn't quite end up coming out entirely on top. It was much better to go in wanting to just do his best and then be willing to be happy for the winner.

Once dinner was done and their plates were cleared away, the next thing on the program was overviews of the finalists' work. There apparently were only five finalists after all, and each had an interesting topic. All were well-researched, all had fabulous plans, and all would be very deserving winners.

Alya looked a little more nervous now, as did the other contestants. The judges had had each of the finalists stand up when their project was first announced, and all five looked a little queasy. They clearly all just wanted the announcement of who had won over with, but dessert came first.

"That's just unfair," Alya grumbled as the generous slices of cake were delivered to the table. "I know these are absolutely delicious, but I'm so nervous that I won't be able to enjoy it."

"Ask for a to-go bag," Nino suggested as he shoveled a generous forkful into his mouth. He gave a hum of delight as he chewed. "Oh, this is good. Marinette, did your parents bake for this?"

Marinette shrugged. "I don't know. I haven't spent any time in the bakery today. I got home, washed up, and then immediately got ready to come over here. They could have made a floor-to-ceiling replica of the Eiffel Tower in the bakery and I wouldn't know."

"That's not fair," Alya groaned, prodding at her cake. "You're taunting me with potential Dupain-Cheng cake and I'm too nervous to enjoy it."

"Maybe they won't clear things away until after the evening is over," Adrien suggested. That was what he would do, since he would know that the very people that the celebration was for wouldn't be able to eat anything. "It wouldn't really make sense to clear things away right away. It's not like the plates are in the way of anything."

Alya just nodded and prodded at her cake some more, glancing between her watch and the judge's table frequently as she did. Adrien went back to enjoying his dessert, and he had to admit, Nino was right. The cake was so good, he wouldn't be surprised if it was a Dupain-Cheng creation. But he couldn't fully enjoy it like he would have wanted; while he wasn't anywhere near as nervous as Alya was, Adrien couldn't deny that the anticipation was giving him butterflies.

Good butterflies. Or, well, non-akuma butterflies. Normal butterflies.

Ten minutes later, most of the room had finished their cake and everyone was either staring at the head table in anticipation or chatting with their neighbors. The head of the competition- Mrs. Beaumont, Alya had told them- stood up, dinging her spoon against the glass. The room gradually fell silent, and all eyes turned to the front.

"And now for the part of the evening you've all been waiting for," Mrs. Beaumont announced, beaming out at all of them. She had three envelopes in her hands, one bronze, one silver, and one gold. One for each of the winners. "As always, I want to first thank all of the contestants for putting so much work into their entries. It was a delight to get to read all of them and learn about what our reporters are interested in, and I speak for our entire panel when I say that I hope that no matter what the outcome is tonight, we want you to forge on forward with your research, because it is outstanding." She paused for applause. Adrien grinned as he joined in. He knew how hard Alya had worked for her entry to get this far, and he was sure that the other contestants had done just as much work on their own pieces.

Mrs. Beaumont waited for the applause to die down before continuing. " Now, I could keep on talking about the need for innovative research in reporting and all the good that comes out of it, but I think we'll spare all of you and jump right to the winners. Without further ado- in third place, receiving a grant to help further their research, is..." She paused, pulling out a slip of paper from a bronze-colored envelope. "In third place - Ms. Sylvia Millet!"

Everyone clapped, and a dark-haired woman hurried forward to receive her certificate and the check, grinning the whole way. She posed for a photo and shook hands with the judges, and then headed quickly back to her spot.

Mrs. Beaumont waited for the applause to die down, then picked up a silver envelope. "Thank you, thank you... now! In second place, receiving a grant and two months of travel funded... congratulations to Mr. Tristan Pascal!"

There was more applause, and a tall blond man dashed forward with a wide grin on his face. Once he got his photos and shook hands with the judges, the whole room went silent with anticipation. Adrien glanced to the side and saw that Alya had a death grip on Nino and Marinette's arms, looking absolutely frozen as she waited to hear if she had managed to achieve her dream...or if she would have to content herself with an honorable mentions position, which wouldn't get her any travel or money for her research.

"And now for the winner of this year's research competition," Mrs. Beaumont announced to the deadly silent room, picking up the gold envelope and opening it. "Receiving a very generous grant and six months of funded travel to the destinations of their choosing in order to further their research, please give a very loud round of applause to this year's first place winner- Ms. Alya Césare!"

A/N: So, as I mentioned last chapter: I'll be posting a chapter of the HTFAM Outtakes story in just shy of a week (it was originally part of the main story, and then was scrapped in favor of a time skip), and then HTFAM-verse will be taking a short break so that I can get a bit farther ahead with my writing of the final bit. I'm working to keep that break short (I only have five chapters left to write, and I have chunks of varying sizes of all of them done), but I'm also working on the PatBC sequel because I was planning on starting to post that soon (lots of projects and SO LITTLE TIME YIKES).